shootin' up zeal
by ryomarufuji
Summary: a collection of small ZeXal oneshots that I don't spend a lot of time on writing. mostly crack, some pairings.
1. Electrons

**A/N**: Photonshipping ahead. Made this in a short amount of time, so it's pretty short. Then again, most of these are going to be. Review if you want. These are mostly just crack. Might be OOC.

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><p>Yuma drew a card dramatically, panting heavily. What should have been halfway through the duel had already passed and neither side was giving in any time soon, their life points still completely full at the fault of a number of magic and trap cards.<p>

Both opponents stood across from each other, cheeks tinted with a faint pink and breathing irregularly from both the intense duel and their own excitement.

"There's no way that I'll lose to you," Kaito tried saying calmly. "You will be _mine._"

"Not a chance!" Yuma yelled back, thrusting his fist into the air. The blue alien simply looked ahead, focusing on the fact that this was a _duel_, no matter what it was over, and that they needed to win. Even so, Astral did not really know exactly what the cause of it was.

Even though Yuma and Kaito had recently been on good terms, Astral was still weary that the older teen would attempt to steal the Numbers cards away. This seemingly random duel did not help his suspicion.

Unbeknownst to him, though, the cause of the duel was far from anything like that. Both Yuma and Kaito were in the younger teen's bedroom, his older sister and grandmother temporarily away for most of the night, while they were kissing each other passionately. Naturally, Yuma was slightly weary and unsure, while Kaito was a bit violent. For around a month, the two had this sort of growing tension that they had only recently broken by an odd friendship.

Still, they were curious teenagers who had desires. The desires, though, just so happened to be each other.

_"__G-get off," Yuma said, blushing and pushing the other teen up. "Who said that _you_ were topping _me?_"_

_Kaito stared at him for a few seconds, looking almost dumbfounded before responding. "You're joking…right?" He asked, his mouth twitching up to a small smile. "You're suggesting that you should be the one topping me?"_

_"__You don't think that I can?" Yuma challenged, grabbing Kaito by the coat. "Then let's have a duel to decide it!"_

_"__A duel?" Kaito smirked and stood. "Hmph. Sounds interesting. I suppose I could take you up on that." Stepping outside, they activated their duel disks and their D-gazers. "Duel!" Both sides yelled._

Yuma and Kaito were exhausted. They had been dueling for _two hours_ already and their life points had only _just_ taken a substantial amount of damage. The two were leaned forward, panting heavily but still continuing the duel, Yuma's life points at 1900 and Kaito's at 400.

In just a few more draws, Yuma attacked and won, pushing Kaito onto his back. Leaning over him in that alleyway, Yuma smirked and said breathlessly, "Hah, looks like I've won."

Right after saying this, he collapsed atop Kaito and they both immediately passed out.


	2. Swallowing Sorrow

**A/N**: English names ahead, just to warn. I don't do that a lot, but I will warn if I do. Fuya/Nelson-centered.

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><p>When Nelson was a child, he had a lot of imagination.<p>

He would watch his favorite television shows and re-enact the fight sequences, read his favorite books and draw out on paper how he would imagine the characters to look, and make up entire scenarios in his head. But he grew up sheltered from a lot of other kids and, in all honesty, he was okay with that for the most part.

Sure, it got lonely, but how could he even act around people?

He wasn't taught how to interact with people his age, just adults, his mother's employees. And even then, all that he was taught was to stay quiet, remain in a steady and straight posture, and be extremely polite when speaking to people.

It may have sounded silly, but his best friends were the characters on the television screen.

They would have never judged him. Well, some would, but he still loved their characters because of their stories. In fact, he loved all of the characters, even the villains. Especially the villains. The villains had the most backstory, the most depth, and the most weight on their shoulders. He admired them, but he would always root for the good guy to win.

Even when playing as The Sparrow, he always had sympathy towards the villains in his show. Especially the Galaxy Queen, who was just a woman turned evil while looking desperately for her departed son. She would do anything to find him, and in turn, she gave up her life for evil in order to accomplish the feat.

But The Sparrow himself had no depth. A missing mother and a dead father, sure, that was what he had, but there was no sadness or anger that came with it. He had his father be brutally murdered in front of him, yet there was no sign of a darker side to him. This didn't make much sense, was all that Nelson thought as he scribbled down a quick sketch of The Sparrow. Suddenly, an idea appeared in his head.

He got out his paints and started tracing over his lines, erasing some and drawing in new ones. A splash of yellow and black, a small swipe of the brush, and he was finished with his design.

It was The Sparrow, sure, but he was different. His usually pale cape was now a black one, lined with golden. Any sort of white had been changed to black and the blue was transformed into gold. His whip, now with a black hinge jutting out of it and the blue light had changed to a lightning-yellow. The mask, now a dark golden with a purple gemstone lying at the top-middle. At the bottom corner of the paper, he wrote in a menacing font, "The Canary."

Then, getting out lined paper, he began writing his story.

Images, some that he sketched out, he played through. The Sparrow, having now attained his mother again, was having recurring thoughts about his father and his death. His mind was plagued with visions of the sequence and he slowly started growing paranoid, wanting very badly to know about his father and who he really was. His mother had refused to tell him a thing, becoming flustered whenever the subject was brought up, so he finally went out to investigate himself.

When he couldn't find much without brute force, he had to slip into another disguise in order to conceal his reputation and identity from the wrong people. From then on, he was known as The Canary, trapping his victims in the binds of his whip like a bird in a cage until they gave him the information that he wanted.

After a while of being in this disguise, he felt himself slowly slipping into the actual role of his evil side. The Canary became more and more violent and even sadistic with the people that he was drawing information out of. Nelson grinned, pleased that he had given new life to his character.

But then, something clicked inside of him and the smile dropped. He re-read the pages that he had already written.

Carefully picking up the pen, Nelson started to write again. He made patient and slow strokes, writing down new events. The Canary was yelling at his masked victim, cornered her into an alleyway, telling her to inform him of all that she knew about his father. But she refused, demanding him to tell her what was going on and who he was. He cracked his whip at her and the mask dropped, revealing it to be his mother, wearing a mask to conceal her identity from any attackers that she had recently heard about.

Then, The Canary dropped, apologizing profusely to her as he threw off his own mask, the gem cracking at impact. Suddenly, he realized that a villain was not who he was meant to be, that he was too much of a genuinely good person to fall into the hands of evil and truly forget his good half. It just wasn't him; he didn't like hurting people.

Both mother and son left the alleyway to their home and The Sparrow threw off his dark costume, storing it in a place that nobody other than him could find. Nelson smiled at this ending, but couldn't help but re-read his other pages.

…For a sheltered middle-schooler, that was pretty dark. Perhaps, he supposed, even as he was now, he still had a lot of imagination.


	3. Pink

**A/N**: This is, quite honestly, the first time that I've ever written III's character. The pairing is III x Yuma.

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><p>"So, this is your <em>hair?<em>" III asked in disbelief, poking at the tip of Yuma's pink hair spikes.

The younger teen twitched in annoyance at both the curiosity of the boy on top of him as well as their closeness. But those reasons weren't what annoyed him the most, oh no, it was the simple fact that the red-head was just _**there**_. That was what really just ticked him off, because he had a pretty good idea of why.

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Yuma had people chasing after him – _the Numbers_, and now at the most inconvenient place. Hearing about the recent dueling tournament in Canada, he and his friends hopped onto a plane and took off, but not without a lot of prodding from his sister.

She was always so protective over him, like she felt that he was her responsibility. He would have chuckled, but that might have hurt his ribs, considering his current position.

"Yes," Yuma finally answered. "This _is_ my hair."

"Hmm…interesting, interesting," III smiled, clearly trying to hold off something for a certain amount of time. Even if he wouldn't admit it, III was the one that scared Yuma the most out of the two brothers. IV was clearly batshit insane, so there wasn't much to find out anymore. But III seemed _genuinely_ caring and nice, even though he was still clearly trying to steal the Numbers, which wasn't a good thing.

"What are you planning?" Yuma asked himself quietly. III only stared in response, but Yuma could have sworn that he saw the smile drop slightly. He moved to make a bit of room for Yuma.

While going to simply speak with Astral in the bathroom on the plane, as to not look crazy to the other passengers, he found the red-head waiting for him. Once getting in, he immediately locked the door and held Yuma in his place, leaned back against the wall. It was not, by any means, comfortable.

III didn't look to be very happy about it, either, though. He was constantly trying to hold Yuma back, but attempting not to be too rough by giving him a bit of room to at least breathe. It scared Yuma a bit, the fact that III was just so _impulsively_ nice, like he wasn't supposed to be fighting him. As if they were supposed to like each other.

Still, Yuma wasn't able to think straight. A boy was holding him against the wall, taller than him so that he was staring at his chest, and Yuma could only think of - _oh, god_. His teenage hormones were to be the death of him, he was sure. So close, he stared up at III's face. His green eyes were so gentle, so inviting, yet also determined and brave. His red hair made him look like a _girl_ - wait, was it _pink_? Whatever, it didn't matter, III was a **cute** girl.

Finally getting his hands free, Yuma pushed III away, making the taller teen stumble back a few steps. Once he got a chance, Yuma broke for the door, but didn't make it very far before III roughly slammed his back against the wall, pushing his body against the smaller one's. "Stop," He said quietly to the flushed boy with his cheeks tinted pink. "You don't want to see what's going on out there. Once everything is done, I'll let you go."

Barely anything registered in Yuma's mind, too focused on the fact that his face was pushed up against III's neck. III blushed lightly and shut his eyes, feeling Yuma's breath on his skin, before changing their positions so that they were face-to-face. Suddenly, Yuma heard banging on the walls of the plane, outside of the bathroom door. Going in for a sprint to the door, Yuma struggled against III, but the pink-haired teen panicked and pushed him back. By kissing him.

Pulling back immediately, they both froze. For the next few minutes, they just awkwardly stared at each other before the strange device around III's wrist started to beep repeatedly. The pink-haired teen clicked an oddly shaped button before letting a dumbfounded Yuma go. He opened the door leading out of the plane, but stopped at the doorway.

"You know...we could have been friends," Yuma points out lowly, causing III to frown.

"...Yeah."

He jumped out the plane. Yuma ran to the open door, looking down, but seeing no one.


	4. Counting Cards

**A/N**: I wanted this to be angst but I failed dramatically and it's really short but oh well shit happens I guess. I'll try again later. No pairings this time.

And thank you, Hana13, for reviewing! :

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><p>Kaito never wanted friends.<p>

Haruto actually was his best friend, his brother, the person that he held responsibility over. Kaito cared so much for Haruto, but all that came from trying to cure him was pain and suffering for the both of them. Still, he loved his little brother too much to even consider discontinuing his search.

Kaito always held the vision in his head, the hope that one day, when he finally would cure his brother, they could go back to that villa. Their life would be happy, they would have no worries. They wouldn't have to think about the Numbers, Duel Monsters, or the rest of the world.

That vision was all that let Kaito keep dueling and searching. But with each passing day that he saw his brother only get worse and worse, the vision seemed to continue growing farther away from him. What if…he couldn't save his brother? What if Haruto's illness was beyond anything that he could help? Did that mean that he was stealing souls from people for _no reason_…?

Kaito hated Duel Monsters. He just wanted to forget about it completely. One day, he jokingly told himself that he would eventually _**destroy **_the game that caused so many people such a large amount of suffering. But then, he remembered that the chances of that working were very slim.

He stood over the sink, refusing to look in the mirror. Every day, he went through this routine. But recently, it seemed to take him longer and longer to snap himself out of it.

It was that boy's fault.

Yuma Tsukumo. The holder of the Numbers. _No_, from his recent knowledge, it belonged to the other that shared the boy's mind; Astral, the blue alien from the Astral World. That was his true rival.

But there was a small part in the back of Kaito's mind that knew that wasn't completely true. Astral was his rival, of course, the one that he needed to defeat in order to gain all of the Numbers cards. But his true enemy was destined to be Yuma. The boy was stupid, amateur at best when dueling on his own, and very obnoxious. He was naïve and gullible at times, but there was something about him that just invaded Kaito's way of thinking.

It wasn't his personality. No matter how he acted, Kaito really did find Yuma a threat. However, unlike Astral, who was a threat to his brother's recovery, Yuma was a personal threat to Kaito. He made Kaito feel things that he had never wanted to feel.

He even went through a phase of watching over Yuma for research. When he saw how the boy acted around his friends, how they acted around him, Kaito stopped immediately. It caused his small "fits" to elongate, and he was afraid of letting himself conciously know why.

Yuma made him want friends. Yuma made him feel doubt. Even if the world was at stake, Kaito wouldn't admit the truth. He wouldn't admit what he truly felt about the younger teenager.

Yuma makes Kaito doubt that saving his brother is the right thing to do, and that scares him.


	5. Blue

**A/N**: Thank you all for your reviews! I decided to slightly continue "Pink," but only briefly, since I want to focus on other stories as well. Please enjoy!

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><p>For what seemed like the fifth time that night, Yuma absentmindedly felt for his lips, immediately reminding himself of the events just that morning on the plane. Now, he and all of his friends were settled into hotels. When Yuma finally exited the bathroom, the entire plane was a wreck, apparently ransacked. Nobody was hurt, luckily, but it really shook everybody up.<p>

Kotori was the one who was affected the most. She was hiding behind a stand of medical supplies, curled up with her hands over her head. More than anything, she was afraid of what had possibly could have happened to Yuma.

Kotori...in all honesty, she was the one that Yuma trusted the most to protect and worry about him. She reminded him of Akari in some ways.

Because of a low budget, some people had to share rooms. Tokunosuke and Takashi were sharing one, as well as Yuma and Shark. It was strange how easy it was to convince Shark to come along to the dueling tournament. Maybe he really _was_ getting back into dueling…

The truth was, Shark only came along to protect Yuma. He stood under the running water of the shower, simply contemplating recent events. The Numbers cards were in serious danger and Shark still needed his revenge on IV. Letting Yuma go off on his own to some far off place would be an incredibly dumb idea, especially when he's got lethal enough danger aimed towards him to take down the whole world and possibly more. It was simply too much of a risk.

And, no matter how much he would have previously denied it, Shark had really grown to care deeply for Yuma. It may have sounded cheesy, but Yuma was actually his…best friend. They had a connection that not a lot of people had and Yuma snapped him out of his bullying ways, as well as made him realize a few things about himself. Yuma helped him build who he was, who he wanted to be.

Shark ran a hand through his wet hair. He was thinking about Yuma too much again.

He was honestly...an interesting person. Yuma had this sort of connection with people that he and Shark had formed in their first duel, even if the barely-older teen had not realized it then. Something drew Shark to Yuma and, even now, he had no idea what it was. He felt something while he was with Yuma that he had never felt around anyone else.

There wasn't a word for what he was feeling. All that he knew was that the feeling was embarrassing.

It distracted him too much and even when simply thinking about Yuma, he felt it. It was even worse when they were together. He would stare off and space out, becoming more flustered than he should when he was caught by Yuma. What was the feeling, exactly...?

He stepped out of the shower and clothed himself, walking out to see Yuma sitting on the bed, staring intently at the ground while touching his mouth. Shark was sure that he also saw a faint blush on the boy's face. After staring for a few seconds, he broke the silence. "Hey."

Yuma jumped lightly in surprise and his head shot up. "O-oh, Shark...hey," He said back lamely, slightly flushed. It seemed that he was trying to look anywhere but Shark.

However, Shark had been meaning to ask him something.

"Hey," He repeated, "What happened on the plane?"

"Wh-what?"

"You were in the bathroom, right? Did you not hear the loud slamming of our suitcases on the walls, or...?"

Yuma started sweating lightly and looked away, searching, trying to find something to say. "I was...the door...had a pretty complicated lock."

Bullshit, but it was obvious that he wouldn't tell Shark what actually happened. Looking him up for a bit, he finally sighed and turned away. "Whatever," He said passively, "I don't really care, anyway." Yuma winced and slumped his head between his shoulders, hating that he lied to his friend.


	6. Travel Surge

**A/N**: There isn't a lot of information on the Tron family's background, so I decided to make up my own. Obviously slightly AU, since this probably won't happen in the actual show. Thanks for the reviews, and please enjoy!

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><p>I got to read my obituary today.<p>

It was short and bittersweet, unsurprisingly. A simple recollection of my short "life." I wasn't allowed to have many friends when I was "alive," and for good reason. "Tron," my brother, had said that we needed to "burn away the memories," so "IV" and "V" decided to set fire to the building and fake our deaths. It was _much_ more difficult than it sounds, but it miraculously worked out, and "Tron" wouldn't let me help too much. He knew that I was the one most opposed to the idea.

So, here we are, traveling along the road to a place that I have yet to know about.

I assume that we're going to the area that Dr. Faker is, but I'm not quite sure where that is, exactly. I seem to be the one left out of the loop, again, and I don't know anything about anything. Then again, maybe "IV" and "V" know just as much as me, but are only hiding it. "Tron" was always sort of secretive, ever since the incident involving Dr. Faker. In fact, I think everyone changed, just a bit at least, even me.

I'm not sure why _we're_ hunting _him_ down, though. He probably thinks that we're dead.

"Tron" even went as far to order "IV" to strategically place four charred dead bodies around the house, posing as ours. He said that he just dug them up in the nearest cemetery, but I have my doubts. "IV" can be a bit unsettling, but I'm fairly certain that he wouldn't try to purposefully hurt anyone. Except that's probably wrong, and he's probably actually lost a large portion of his sanity. I can't blame him. We all have, the rest of us are just better at hiding it.

I'm worried about him, though. Especially since he's going to be a participant in the National Duel Circuit. More than anything, I'm worried about his opponents.

"V" doesn't worry me. He was probably effected the least out of all of us. The one effected the most? "Tron," which was why he is our "leader," or at least the closest thing that we could have to a leader. He's powerful and strategic, the very definition of a child prodigy. We wouldn't be where we are if it weren't for him.

I want revenge, just like my brothers. Though, in all honesty, I want more than anything for us all to just be a normal family again. I know that...can't happen, though. Even if we do get revenge, we won't ever be normal. We won't ever be a family again. We will still have to live with the aftershock, the effects that are still taking place and will take place in the future.

I find glimmers of hope, though.

Those times where "IV" and "V" can have a conversation without it turning into an argument. Those times when "IV" grudgingly says "thank you" after I make us tea. Those times when "V" finally opens up to me and tells me what bothers him, what he thinks about. And those times where I team up with one of my brothers, showing off just how amazing our dynamic is. I always smile at the thought.

Maybe we can be a family as we are now. A new, fresh experience.

Starting today, I am to be known as III.


	7. Falling Skies

**A/N**: Thank you all for the reviews! I'm really happy that you like my stories. This one is slightly longer than my others, and it's Skyshipping. Please enjoy!

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><p><em>"Cheer up, okay?"<em>

But, how can he, when his best friend is lying sick on a hospital bed?

Recently, there had been a strange sickness going around that was terribly contagious. It first started out as a cold, but escalated into something that eventually broke down your entire immune system, leaving you defenseless against even the smallest symptoms. It was unheard of in Heartland, but hey, there was barely anyone sick there in the first place. Some, with originally stronger immune systems, would be able to get rid of it quickly. Others, though, were not so lucky.

One of the unlucky people turned out to be Kotori, Yuma's best friend.

_"I'll get better."_

But that's just it; she **won't**. It came on unexpectedly and fast, so there isn't any cure as of yet. There's treatment that reduces the symptoms to a mild influenza, which she takes regularly. He can have normal conversations with her and forget that she's even sick in the first place, the only indication being that she sounds slightly congested. Still, he's just repressing the feelings. Yuma doesn't truly believe that she'll get better, because she won't. She says that she won't. She says that the treatment only pushes off the symptoms, but does nothing for what is actually destroying her on the inside. But he sits by her bed every day that he can, bringing her favorite comics and stories of his newest duels.

He told her about Kaito and their tag-team duel, how he was confused about what he should do. Kaito is trying to save his brother, and he can only do that by attaining all of the Numbers cards. However, Astral still needs to regain his memories, and Yuma sees Astral as his close companion and partner. As usual, Kotori gives him the advice to just listen to what he believes is the right thing.

"Not everything is black and white," She says, sniffling lightly. "Sometimes, you're forced to choose between two evils."

Two evils...was that what it really came down to? He smiled and looked down, contemplating her words. She always gave him the best advice, even if he didn't listen a large majority of the time. Now that she was...in this condition, though, he seemed to listen more and more. He also started to think more. What she said was right, completely right, and he just needs to listen to what he feels is the best thing to do. He needs to use his own judgment.

She doesn't wait for his response. After a while, she started to notice it, and she knew that he wouldn't talk much more. She just knew that he took what she said to heart.

Back at home, too late to be at that hospital anymore, he sits on his hammock. For a few moments, he just sits there, staring off into space.

He starts to sob, burying his face into his hands. Yuma doesn't want Kotori to leave.

_"You're not acting like yourself..."_

He hates that one the worst. His friend is dying, how is he expected to act? Isn't he allowed a bit of time to just let out his feelings of anguish, knowing that he will loose a friend and that it could happen any day? It wasn't fair, it shouldn't have been like this. He hates it. _**He hates it. **_It was the first time since he was fully and consciously aware of his parent's deaths that he had cried.

Before she was sick, he swore that nobody could take Kotori away from him. Now, he realized, it wasn't exactly a person who was going to do it.

Kotori is his best friend. He loves her. He cares about her more than he cares about anyone else. He would even give up the key if it meant that Kotori would live, even if he wouldn't mention it aloud to anyone. He loves Astral, too, but he knew Kotori for so long. He was her childhood friend! She gave him confidence to fight on, to keep at his dreams. He knew that she loved him, too...in a different way. She truly loved him, more than platonic, which he noticed lightly before. He was 13; he wasn't sure if he loved her in the same way, but...he thought that he could.

It made sense. He would give anything up to save her. He sort of was reminded of Akari when Kotori was extremely protective, and now, as he stood by her side every day and every minute that he could, he felt the need to be with her at all times, like she could drop at any minute. And she could. She could drop and faint at any moment, especially those times where she couldn't eat.

After a while, he started practically forcing her to get something into her system every day. It helped her body fight off the sickness.

"Yuma?"

His head shot up and he turned towards Kotori. "...Y-yeah?"

"I love you," She said, a soft smile on her face, looking straight at him. "What?"

"I love you, Yuma!" She repeated, feigning annoyance and giggling lightly. "I thought, you know, it's better late than never to tell you. But you probably know anyways..."

Yuma stared at her, unsure of what to say exactly. He knew it, sort of, at least vaguely. But...could he even say it back? Yeah, _of course_,he could! He loved her! He might not be in love with her, but...he can be pretty certain that he at least...likes her in that way. He considers it, and it makes sense, yeah, he probably does feel that way about her. It's confusing, but he feels like he's got most of it figured out, at least.

"I love you, too," He said back to her. She gasped and her eyes went wide. "You...you do...?" He nodded with a grin.

For a moment, her mouth fought between shocked and pleased, but it suddenly stopped. She stopped smiling. All color drained from her face and she looked away from him, wide-eyed and looking horrified at what he said. His eyebrows furrowed in concern, wondering exactly what he did to receive this type of reaction. He said that he loved her, too, so...what was wrong?

"...Kotori - "

"I've been lying to you," She says darkly.

"What? Lying about what?"

"My sickness," She replies as she turns her head, revealing her crying face. "It's...it's curable. I've been taking the treatment because that's all we can afford. I didn't want to bother you with it because you're already in a bad financial situation...you only have your sister and your grandmother. I didn't want you to spend the money that you need on me - "

"That's ridiculous!" Yuma yelled, standing up. "I can make the money! Your life is more important to me than any amount of money! You're...you're being..." He couldn't finish, feeling too utterly _betrayed_ by the person that he cared about the most.

She sobbed harder, gasping and breathing quickly and heavily. "I-I'm sorry...Yuma!" She cried out apologetically. Eyes softening, he stood next to her bed, looking at her closely.

She was...hyperventilating.

Panicking, he grabbed hold of her shoulders and held her still. "C-calm down! Calm down!"

A nearby nurse ran in, likely having heard the yelling, and called for more nurses. They lightly pushed Yuma away, politely asking him to leave the room with him protesting and demanding that he see Kotori. Eventually, they got her to calm down, but she simply lay there, completely still. "Is she alright?" Yuma asked urgently.

"She's fine. Miss Mizuki has just passed out," The nurse said to him calmly. How could they stay so serene? Angrily, he left the room and sat in the lobby, rubbing his thumbs against his forehead. The cure had to be expensive, but it was easily worth her life, and he needed to get it. There needed to be a way. Standing up, he started towards his home for his sister's advice.

No matter what, nothing would take Kotori away from Yuma.


	8. 30 Daze

"Miss Kamishiro" was all that they ever called her. The nurses, that is. She actually hated it, but not for any reason pertaining to formality.

It was just that, "Miss Kamishiro" did not remember her own name. She must have hit her head in the accident. _Haha, accident._ No, anyways, she probably just lost bits and pieces of her memory. It made sense, though, since it happened a long time ago. She, since then, had been in a coma which she only recently had woken up from. She was grateful, especially considering the fact that she could see her brother, Ryoga, again.

But she really wanted to see one boy in particular.

Months ago, before the incident, her family spent their summer in a far-off vacation spot, where she usually went to play in the park. By now, she had the entire area memorized. The construction site to the right, the playground a bit in the middle-left, she remembered that one drinking fountain that she was sure that only few people knew of where it was. She remembered the woods, where her parents warned her not to go, but she always disobeyed and explored.

And she remembered a boy that she played with that one day, for a month.

Oh, was that too confusing? Yes, she played with him for a month, on that same day. You see, she met him that day and had to say goodbye all the same. Many, many times she said goodbye. August 15th, that summer, the heat radiated off of everywhere. She walked around, a stray black cat in her arms, heating her up even more. The young Kamishiro loved animals. Spotting a swing set, she ran to sit on one of the swings, next to an unfamiliar boy.

"That's a cute cat," The boy said casually. "Can I hold him?" He looked nice enough at first glance, his hair two strange colors. His eyes, though…were menacing. They horrified her and intrigued her all the same. It didn't help that he had a suspicious looking scar running alongside the right of his face. Still, she had no reason to distrust him.

Smiling, she handed the stray over and he took it in his arms, petting it lightly. His smile was calm and innocent. She suddenly felt bad for thinking him untrustworthy and inwardly scolded herself. "Shall we take a walk?" He asked, turning to her. She looked over and returned the smile, thinking the weather nice enough to take a small stroll with the boy. They stood and started towards the walkway near the road.

For those few minutes, they just talked, never once asking for the other's name. She didn't see a reason to at the time. She never did, which she really regretted now. They spoke of the weather and summer, you know, one of those cliché moments that you would find in any stupid romance movie. Now that she was confined to a hospital bed, though, those stupid movies seemed a lot less stupid when she was forced to watch them those times that she was too tired to reach for the remote and change the channel.

"I kind of hate summer," He said suddenly. "Too hot, almost unbearable. And there are so many people out." She tilted her head in response as they continued on walking.

Unexpectedly, the cat jumped out of the boy's hands and he instinctively went to go after it. It ran across the road, when luckily the traffic light was already red. She sighed in relief, thinking that it was alright when the boy went after the cat.

A large pick-up truck slammed straight into the boy, splattering blood onto the pavement and swerving the red vehicle into a pole.

She ran over, but stopped next to his broken, mangled body. His face, sprayed with red, stuck in a shocked expression. His legs were bent back unnaturally, to the point where one reached his flattened wrists. She coughed at the terrible smell of fresh blood and suddenly felt incredibly dizzy. Then, everything went black.

August 14th, 12:04 AM, little Kamishiro woke up in her bed.

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><p>Walking with the same boy, she held closely to the cat and felt herself start to sweat nervously. Isn't it strange? Just the day before, she had a dream that the two were walking together there. Maybe it was just her own paranoia, but she was too scared to hand the cat over. "Oh, okay," Was his response. "Well, then, may we take a walk together?" She agreed. But…not matter how close she held the cat, it still managed to jump out of her arms and head for the street.<p>

When the boy went to catch it for her, she panicked and grabbed his arm. "Hey…let's go. I want to introduce you to someone." He took one last glance back at the cat, which made it safely across the road before a truck rode past. He smiled and agreed. "Yeah…sure." Relieved, she happily skipped off of the walkway and he followed.

The moment he stepped away, though, people all around the park suddenly looked up in shock, mouths wide open and eyes like saucers, horrified. A large iron construction pole fell from the sky, penetrating the boy's body where he stood. His blood splattered across her as she stepped back, terrified. His loud scream pierced the sky and rang in her ears, his face contorting in pain. Tears started to well up in her eyes as the world around her turned pitch black.

For a month, that continued. No matter what she did, nothing could stop his death. Nothing could stop the cycle that she was stuck in. She felt like she could break any moment, having witnessed death more times than one should at her age. Death of the same boy. She held her head as she hid behind the construction site, trying to block out his terrified screams that seemed like it could slash through any amount of noise. It didn't work. Over and over, she could do nothing for him.

But there had to be a way. She realized it long ago, but she never fully let it be known to her consciously. One certain fate would finally end that day, and she knew what it was.

They walked along that same walkway, the cat jumped out of the boy's arms and he ran after it. Suddenly, she broke into a sprint and ran as well. Just before he could reach the street, she pushed him out of the way and ran in front of him, letting the truck crush her body. Blood splattered around the street as the truck swerved like it always did into a pole. She could still smell the fresh blood and hear the snickering cicadas in the background, but the immense pain mostly blocked it out.

Looking back at the boy, one last time, she could have sworn that she saw him smiling a smile that she had never seen on him before.

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><p>Now that she was sitting in her hospital bed, she reached for the remote and flipped on the television. It was finally fall now and a part of her wondered if it really was all just a dream from when she was in a coma. But then, how did she get hospitalized? Was she not in a sort of vehicle accident? That was what everyone told her and that was what she remembered. It made sense. But, either way, it was all over. A part of her wished that she could see that boy again, the one that she saved and saw die countless times. A part of her wanted to finally get to know him as a person, not as a victim. She wanted to be his friend, she even partially wanted to tell him all that she went through in order to save him, that one stranger.<p>

Yes, she risked her life for a stranger. It was a miracle that she wasn't dead.

She had heard that her brother was dueling a boy, IV, in the National Duel Circuit. The female Kamishiro had never heard of IV. It was only the fact that Ryoga was dueling that she was even watching this channel, having never been all that interested in dueling in the first place. Once the commercials ended, the screen flipped back to the final duel.

Her eyes went wide in shock as the face of the boy that she had attempted saving countless times appeared on the screen.

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><p><strong>AN**: Hi! Just wanted to say thank you all for your reviews and this entire fanfic was based off of a vocaloid song, Heat-Haze Days. I thought that I would try something new and it turned out...not really matching up with my expectations, but it's something. I really wanted to continue it, but I wasn't really sure how that would play out. So, I might decide to continue it in another oneshot that explains it a bit more.


	9. Ceased Termination

**A/N**: I have, like, four other stories that I should be working on. But I really wanted to get this one done, and it just randomly came to me. I wrote it out in less than five minutes and it's sort of an idea for a part of a longer fanfiction I might want to work on in the future. Please review what you think of it. Cerulean Stories will soon be updated, and I'm still working on TEPoSA.

Please enjoy!

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><p>Sometimes, you feel like you just don't belong there. Like you really don't deserve anything that you get, like you're useless. But trust me, you're not. Your friends really love you and you mean a lot to them. Trust me.<p>

Your name is Kotori, but you probably knew that already. If not, it more than likely wouldn't hurt if you took some time to see a doctor.

At first, you think it's just a joke to lighten the mood. I mean, he was talking to thin air. Then, you think that the duel's gotten to him and he's just hallucinating. Yeah, those were plausible, but so very wrong. He's there. Astral, I mean. Inside of the key, hiding out until that duel with "Shark." You sometimes want to thank him, that Ryoga. He was a large part of the reason that you all got to meet Astral in the first place. You really do like him, don't you? You believe him to be a close companion, just like Yuma and everyone else does, even though you've only seen him once.

But you have no idea, do you?

Oh, spoilers, by the way. I feel slightly obligated to tell you that you shouldn't trust him, but why listen to me? I'll just wait it out and see how he progresses. After all, he has amnesia. Perhaps that boy will get to him, or already has gotten to him. He got to Ryoga. I see how he looks at Yuma now, that expression of admiration and gratitude. Of adoration and just that small hint that simply being around Yuma makes him slightly happier. I'm disappointed, though, with how much he pushes the other boy away. Yuma has a strange power to make people love him. You even jokingly told me that his enemies will eventually break down, confessing that he's changed something in them.

You say that jokingly, but you don't see how right you are. You see, I've done a bit of off-handed spying. I know. I can practically sense your unimpressed expression, but it was for a good cause, I swear! That other boy, Kaito, Yuma has already affected him, but the boy cannot emotionally handle it. I feel sympathetic, I really do, because he's fighting for his brother.

At this point, I realize how much you really don't know. I actually sometimes forget. I mean, you're so smart that it's almost enigmatic, yet Yuma has more information. No matter how little you know about Kaito, you hate him for endangering Yuma. Yet, Yuma himself is stuck between wanting to help Kaito and wanting to help Astral. Kaito is stuck between wanting to save his brother and his growing and obvious love for Yuma. So much tension in the air, and you're oblivious to it all.

Tetsuo has always been like Yuma's brother, but the boy with the Key thinks of you as something more. Don't get your hopes up; it isn't romantic. There's a word for it, I'm sure, but I don't know what it is. An extreme version of friendship, maybe? Well, he cares about you, and that's all that matters.

You've always had people loving you. People caring for you and saving you every step of the way. If you make a mistake, they're there, cheering you on. Especially Yuma and Astral. Even though you've only seen him once, you have a feeling that he's seen you multiple times. Because he's always with Yuma. He's a part of Yuma, and Yuma is now a part of him. You feel that bond with Astral that you feel with Yuma, but your bond with all of your other friends is strong, too. Now, I'm not jealous or anything. I just sort of wish that I could have had people like that.

You look up, walking along the shopping mall, coffee in hand. "You mean, when you were alive?"

Yes, dear, when I was alive. Now don't talk out loud, people might think you're crazy.


	10. Woven Caricatures

**A/N**: I honestly have no idea of what the heck I just wrote. I intended for it to be keyshipping, but I'm not sure if I was even close to that original intention.

Er...please enjoy?

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><p>For the first time in months, Yuma is simply doing nothing.<p>

His hands are twisted within the thick neck of his hammock just because he needs something on the outside to keep him occupied to just keep him from delving **too** deep into his thoughts. Yet he has no idea why he even needs to. Not like there are people who would really care if he would stare off in the middle of class into his own little world, rather than fall asleep, or if he just walks along the streets and he misses his turn, but it doesn't matter to him, but it matters to _them_ because their worries are different from his. And that's what he really cares about, their feelings, their worries.

Yuma sometimes wonders half-jokingly if he is a mutation of sorts, although that applies moreso to his character than to his physical appearance. He lies to people about things more frequently than he wants to but that isn't even really it on its own. Because he lies to himself, and for a period of time, he believes those lies. A pathological liar is what that term is, even though he still doesn't think that's the correct description. He lies to himself about his feelings, his own thoughts, and it isn't consciously.

He turns in his hammock to face the television screen.

Astral sits in front of it once again, fascinated by the mostly CGI imagery. Eventually, Yuma ceased his explanations of how unreal television actually is. This did not help Astral's perception of reality, but there was a small part of Yuma that really, truly, utterly did not care. There's really something inside of Yuma that he doesn't show to anyone, not even the one sharing his body. _No, __**especially**__ not to the person sharing my body. _He keeps so many things from Astral, it's ridiculous. Because he knows that if you grow to dislike a person, which deep down, Yuma is afraid will happen with Astral directed towards him, it's more difficult and tension-filled when you share every minute of your life with them. It's heartbreaking. But then, Yuma is afraid that it will happen with himself. Because Yuma doesn't want the responsibility that has been thrust onto him so unexpectedly, so suddenly. He doesn't want it. He contemplates even just throwing the damn Key at Kaito with a _Here, take it, I don't want it._

But he doesn't do that.

Because he cares about Astral. Because Astral cares about him. Because Astral's life is, quite literally, in his hands and Yuma has risked it so many times that he feels as if he _owes_ Astral something larger than even his own life. And he does. But it still is difficult sometimes dealing with Astral and his oblivious nature. Oblivious by force. And Astral doesn't understand things, yet he seems to understand things better than Yuma. Astral doesn't know how to deal with people normally, but from his simple observations, he has told Yuma so many things outside of dueling that have helped dramatically.

But Yuma is afraid, because he doesn't think that Astral understands what he feels. A passion, a love for that one extraterrestrial being that he only met some months ago. But it scares him. Because everyone has a personality and a character. A personality can be anything. It can be a compressed version of your character or just a false front to make people either like you or dislike you. Yuma can usually tell which it is. He can't tell their character, mind you, but he can see if they fake themselves. Like with Kaito. Kaito fakes his personality, that strong and prideful exterior. That much is obvious. But Yuma can't decipher anything about him that is past that.

Astral is different.

Astral is always different.

Astral barely understood the fundamentals, the basics, the building blocks of the human mind. A sociopath would have an easier time understanding people. _And maybe that's what Astral is_, Yuma thinks, _Maybe he's some sort of other worldly sociopath._ But then, that would imply that Astral has some sort of humanity in him. But technically, he's not all that different from humans, so it's probably true to an extent.

And Yuma could unexpectedly _relate_ to that, because honestly, he sometimes felt that he couldn't understand the way that humanity worked. Astral is an enigmatic being, too inhuman. Even his movements are alien, unnatural, and eerie. On the off-chance that he wouldn't appear incredibly out-of-place, his mannerisms can be described as even creepy and it would set anyone off, put anyone's guard up. And Yuma wonders why he even dwells on this when it has such little meaning. He's just going through his prior knowledge, nothing new. But it helps him stay leveled in more ways than one.

It's at this point where he hears the sociopath being murmur to himself about what he is watching, comments that are mostly humorous and questions that Yuma would probably have to answer in the morning. How exhausting. But actually Yuma likes answering the questions, even if he won't admit it. It reminds him of how childish Astral really can be.

"Yuma," Astral starts questioningly. His head turns towards the boy on the hammock. Yuma's eyes went wide for a moment and he jumped in surprise. "This man is telling me to buy his products. Should I follow through with this order?"

Out of all of the questions. To the confusion of Astral, Yuma started laughing. It takes a large amount of his will power to finally shake his head "no" and turn himself away. Astral looks at him strangely, slightly dumbfounded, while Yuma smiles to himself. He really does love these moments where Astral shows this curious side of him. He almost looks human, even with his graceful and out-of-this-world looks. Even with his blue aura and strange form. But then, Yuma wonders if it's really his emotions that Astral doesn't understand. He's wrong, he's come to decide on. It's the opposite, isn't it? Astral has amnesia. Astral doesn't understand his own emotions, but Yuma is a human who understands (even slightly) the feelings of himself and others.

Astral understands Yuma's emotions more than anything else. And that realization gives Yuma the hope that his worries won't become reality.


	11. More

**A/N**: Oh, shit, I wrote mooncest. Please blame the wonderful evilofdarkness for this.

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><p>"More…" Haruto said lightly, clinging to his older brother for support.<em> "More!"<em>

Kaito stared intently at the wall, trying his hardest to maintain his balance as he held Haruto in his arms. After feeling the younger boy push into him farther, he cried out in faint pain and his hands clasped over Haruto's hair. Grunting lightly, Kaito pulled and the other boy let out a small squeak. Instinctively, Kaito's hand snapped back and he let go, not wanting to hurt Haruto. Kaito threw his head back, only hitting the air and almost falling on his back.

Haruto buried his face into Kaito's chest and dug his fingernails into his arms as hard as he could, drawing blood, making Kaito yell out again. He didn't hold back his screams; Haruto needed this and he was…okay with that. If it was for his younger brother's health, Kaito was fine with getting hurt.

Grinning sadistically, Haruto scraped his hands down, covering his fingers with blood and causing Kaito to lean forward and push Haruto onto the ground. He moaned loudly, trying to lift himself up but only managing to pull Haruto out of him, to which they both felt annoyance at.

He wasn't quite sure how the two got into such a position. In all honesty, it was sort of a blur to him by now. But still, his emotions seemed to be playing constant tricks on him as Haruto pumped himself in and out of Kaito, sending an overpowering mixture of pleasure and pain through them both and making Kaito's eyes roll to the back of his head.

He had never experienced anything like this; not even with a girl. Neither of them had. Deep depression had kept their sex drives to a minimum, not that Haruto had a lot of an idea of what that even was. Still, all they had was each other, and Haruto's illness required quite a bit of...screams. Which, under right circumstances, Kaito was willing to provide.

But how did those circumstances become this?


	12. Cold

**A/N**: This is incredibly short, but it's basically sort-of-kind-of pairing Haruto/Astral. Set in episode 40, so spoilers ahead.

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><p>Careful not to wake the young boy on the hammock, Astral floated by him and observed his facial features. Haruto, Kaito's younger brother, according to Yuma, was faced towards the wall. Every few moments, there would be a shift in the sheets, indicating that he had not yet fallen asleep.<p>

Really, it was odd. They were barely alike.

For one, Haruto had a strange innocence to him that had not been present in Kaito. He was quiet and non-threatening...more or less. Yet...what was his purpose? What was he there for? Why could he see and speak to Astral? He had too many questions that he felt needed to be answered. And yet, all that he could do at the moment was watch over him. Almost like what Yuma had once called a "guardian angel." Suddenly, Haruto turned towards Astral and stared momentarily before speaking.

"Aren't you cold?"

Had he not already asked that two or three times? It made a bit of sense, though. Astral never answered him. Carefully, lips parted, Astral sat cross-legged on the ground in front of the hammock and searched for a way to explain things. Haruto's curious eyes followed his every movement.

"I...do not know."

"Why not?"

Astral closed his eyes, feeling a strange emotion course through him for a moment before looking back up at the boy. What did it mean to be cold? Yuma had never fully explained, yet he used it frequently, usually shivering. Astral did not shiver. Did that mean that he was not cold?

Suddenly, Haruto stood from the hammock. His tired yellow eyes scanned the room for something, though Astral had no idea of what, before finally resting on discarded clothing that Yuma had never gotten to putting away. Haruto walked over and shuffled through them, finally picking out a pure white shirt.

Astral looked on with a confused and intrigued expression before jumping back in surprise when Haruto attempted to throw the shirt over his head.

"Wh-what are you - "

Haruto suddenly stopped when the shirt phased directly through Astral. His eyes widened slightly in what looked like shock, confusion, and amazement.

"...Is this why you are cold?"

Feeling defeated, Astral sighed and turned away. "Yes," he answered simply.

Haruto cocked his head to the side. "That's kind of sad."

"Sad?" Yuma had explained that word to him before. Yet, Astral did not feel pain. And he was certainly not lonely; Haruto was directly in front of him and Yuma was asleep on his bed, just beneath the attic. Why would he feel sad?

Silently, Haruto approached Astral and raised his hand. He reached out to him and lightly began to run his fingers down his cheek, ghosting over his lips, confused. Astral flinched away lightly, causing Haruto to stop, yet his hand still lay on his face.

This boy could...touch Astral as well? What else could he do?

Carefully, Astral leaned back into the touch, studying Haruto and his movements thoroughly. What possessed the boy to make him reach out? There must have been something.

The boy rubbed his thumb over Astral's lips. "Weird," Haruto let out, "People usually scream when they are sad."

Astral blinked in surprise. "Do they?" He had never heard such a thing from Yuma, though the boy was constantly yelling, so it made a bit of sense. Haruto nodded in response, letting his hand travel downward to Astral's neck, then to his shoulder and his arm, finally reaching his fingers. Carefully, he felt for Astral's nails and came to the discovery that they were very closely attached to his fingertips, too close, like they weren't even nails in the first place. Like they were simply a part of his fingers. He marveled in that fact for a second before running his hand to Astral's chest.

For a moment, Astral felt something that he had rarely ever felt before. It was the same feeling that he had experienced when Yuma called him a "friend," though at a more subtle extent. His breath quickened when Haruto leaned in close to his face, pushing at his chest with one hand and lightly rubbing his thumb over the orange orbs on Astral's shoulder with the other. Suddenly, he felt that familiar emotion. Anxiety. Fear. Astral supposed that Kaito and Haruto had one thing in common, at the least.

They could make their opponent feel inferior to them.

Yet...was Haruto his opponent?


	13. Things Your Librarian Didn't Tell You

**A/N**: Well, this is my first crack at really trying to write from V's perspective. Don't expect anything good or in-character here, because really, we barely know anything about his character.

Nevertheless, please enjoy!

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><p>Carefully, I slide my paper-cut fingers over new pages; New beginnings.<p>

It's an amusing story about a small boy on a boat to see his parent that crashes, meeting the greatest and strongest man that he would ever know. The boy would lose his sight, the man would take care of him, love him like the father that he had not been able to see, and the boy would then lose him to a terrible disease. Tragic. But I lived for tragedy in my lovely articles - anything else seemed ever so incredibly dull and severely, painfully, uninteresting.

And really, that's the only time that I halfway feel like my younger brother, when I read these dire little fragments - pieces of my personality, really, because books have aided in molding me into the young man that stands within my reflection today. Books, standing tall among the shelves upon shelves in my vision, the only area not covered being the door, which is tragic, too, in its own sense, because really, how wonderful, joyous, marvelous would it be to simply be confined into that large library- like area? The desk with that annoyingly dim light could go, as well, until I would buy a couple of better ones. Tron had procrastinated buying new ones, utilizing the excuse of, oh, if we got rid of this lamp, how could you read and go without it until we bought a new one? Which was ridiculous, of course, but I had never been one to argue with my brother, expecially on such silly matters.

And honestly, I laid my head back thinking, what's the purpose of this, anyways? That disgusting, utterly repulsive excuse for a human being, Doctor Faker, oh, why did we just not go and be done with him, when really, we were able to easily extract his soul, but then, of course, I remember his stupid connections and I remember the stupid fact that, right, I can't just stay in this room forever. This big, beautiful room, filled with gorgeous colors and fractions of the puzzle that is me. I cannot be contained within the complex, not when my brothers are in deperate need of their own piece. And I marvel in the fact that I am that piece.

I am a fragment that makes the family, my family, whole. Well, as whole as it can be. I set the book down on the repugnant desk, a dark red bookmark protruding out from the top, from the middle of the book. Such a compelling story.

Yet, I was destined to go out, and tell my own compelling story.


	14. Heart

**A/N**: So, story time. I was in the middle of writing catchphraseshipping, when I suddenly had the idea of this. End story.

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><p>In an almost empty classroom, a loud moan was released, followed by the biting of the offender's lower lip.<p>

_"God…what the hell is going on?"_ Was all that rang through Ukyo Kitano's head as he felt his student's tongue run over the tip of his cock. Blue hair tickled Kitano's thighs, shifting continuously and licking the underside of his hard dick, taking him quickly back into the small mouth of his. Kitano instinctively threw his head back and curled his fingers through Shark's hair, taking control and pushing himself in and out of the boy. Simultaneously, Shark could feel his pants getting progressively tighter, causing his fingers to shake carelessly.

Struggling a bit, Shark pulled back, causing Kitano to look down in slight confusion. He took hold of the small hooks in his belt and pulled at them carefully, taking another glance at the door to make sure that it was locked, another look at the windows to see that the blinds were shut, and took off the piece of clothing, discarding it on the ground. Breathing heavily, Shark placed his hands on Kitano's legs, lifting himself off of the ground and onto his lap.

Closing his eyes, Shark arched his back and let his legs fall over the chair. Slowly and carefully, he pushed his index finger inside of himself and clutched Kitano's shoulders. One became two, and he pushed back, pumping his fingers in and out, stretching himself and biting down on his lip, letting his eyes roll back.

He propped himself up, silently and slowly sliding his professor's dick inside of him, wet with precum. Finally, he let out a pleasured yelp, followed by a moan and avariciously pushed Kitano further in, overcome by the immense pleasure and pain. He held his breath as he came, followed shortly by Kitano, and buried his head into the other's shoulder, red with shame.

He delicately pushed himself up and pulled his clothing on, half of him strangely longing for more and the other half of him too tired to do what he had actually came here to do. After a few moments, his professor cleared his throat.

"We should probably be getting to the tutoring..."


	15. Catch Phrases

**A/N**: Just like I said I would, I made a catchphraseshipping fanfic!

Please enjoy!

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><p>The first time that Todoroki ever actually had a full conversation with Tokunosuke, they were at club room 203-2, after fourth period, skipping lunch, so they were both hungry. Nobody else came, probably to go eat their food, even though there was a club meeting. Todoroki would never have missed, punctual as he is, and Tokunosuke simply had forgotten to bring food, so he had nothing better to do. It was quiet. The Numbers Club was to discuss recent events of a boy's, Kaito's, unseen duel with Yuma. It was curious. Interesting. Fascinating.<p>

And yet, despite Cathy's obvious obsession with Yuma and Kotori and Tetsuo's worry for the young boy, they were the only two to show up. Once Tokunosuke had opened the door, taking two steps in until he recognized the boy sitting on a small, fold-out chair, they stared awkwardly at each other as the bell rung. Quietly but quickly, he shut the door.

"Oi! Where is everyone else…?" Tokunosuke raised an irritated eyebrow and curled his fingers into a fist. "They didn't show up did they? Jeeze, I wasn't even there, and I showed up here, conversely!"

Todoroki sighed, shutting the book in his hands and placing it upon the table. Playfully, he let out a small smirk and raised his index finger, pointing it up and shaking it lightly. "And for what reason did you show up, exactly? To summarize, they more than likely are eating their lunch. Can you blame them?" Shutting his eyes in annoyance, Tokunosuke turned his head away. "…I just can't have my lunch. I didn't bring any, conversely," He muttered lowly. Todoroki's smirk grew.

"Ah, so you only showed up because of that?"

"Wh – " Tokunosuke blinked like a deer caught in headlights. "Whatever, I…just…drop the subject! Weren't we supposed to talk about the incident at the warehouse, conversely?"

Todoroki nodded knowingly. Unfortunately, in his desperate attempt at gaining access to that particular club room, Todoroki had no time at all to set it up. He was stuck with the one desk and fold-out chair that were left from the last group. It was annoying, at best, utterly irritating, at worst. And now, what was there to really do? They had less than the required amount of information to actually have a club meeting about such an affair, considering Yuma had not given them details that were useful.

Lost in thought, Todoroki had not noticed that Tokunosuke had went to stand in front of him, hands on his hips and his eyebrow raised in confusion. Oddly enough, the gesture seemed...cute? A strange description, but the only fitting thing that could come to mind. "Well?" Tokunosuke inquired impatiently.

Todoroki blinked a couple of times, coming face-to-face with an annoyed Tokunosuke. The smaller boy raised a hand to wave it in front of his eyes. "What's wrong with you?" He asked, his eye twitching lightly, angry that he was seemingly being ignored. Todoroki stopped, feeling the other boy's steady breath on him. He shook his head and leaned forward, pushing his forehead up against Tokunosuke's.

"How can we discuss such a topic, with our limited information?" He asked rhetorically. It made no sense! It wasn't like he needed to show up. Why here, anyways, of all places? He could have gone anywhere else...

Tokunosuke pushed back, returning the look of anger. "Why even hold a meeting, then? What was the point of calling us here?"

Suddenly, the two fell back, tipping over the chair and pushing Tokunosuke into an uncomfortable position on top of Todoroki. Instinctively, he moved himself around and found his body pushed onto the other's, their faces barely an inch away. He could have sworn that his face was burning, for whatever reason. He shouldn't be blushing - what was wrong with him? And the Chairman's face was red, too, but why?

It wasn't like they actually even liked each other. Still, they were so close...dammit! Tokunosuke shut his eyes, swiftly diving down to meet Todoroki's lips for not even a split second before standing up. Immediately, his face lit up in embarrassment and he turned away.

Todoroki laid on the ground, propped up from the chair, looking up at the ceiling in shock. What had just...happened? He jumped in surprise when the bell finally rung, prompting Tokunosuke to head straight for the door. "I'll see you at the meeting tomorrow, conversely..." He murmured slowly.

"Wh - hey, wait - !"

Todoroki stood up, but tripped over the chair and fell face-first onto the ground. When he looked back up, Tokunosuke was already gone.


	16. Black

**A\N**: A sequel to Pink and Blue. I like to call this chapter, "Reality Ensues," because this is really the only way that this ship could end up.

Please enjoy!

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><p>Shark knew now. He couldn't protect Yuma.<p>

His shirt and coat were torn, left to bleed in the light of the hotel room. Glass protruded out of his side, out of his head, his vision weakening. Too bright. What had even happened? Yuma was taken away, by that damned III. The one he had dueled and won against. Apparently, dueling was not his only strong aspect. Shark spent his fair time in a gang, so he could defend himself well. But with a quick blow to the head by a bottle, those bottles of wine that you find in the hotel rooms that have a censor on the bottom, so they are immediately added to your bill, he was down and couldn't defend against the continuous blows.

He couldn't move. He couldn't do anything. The alcohol burned his wounds like a motherfucker, and his breathing was heavy and irregular. _What the hell was up with that family...?_

Why did III want Yuma in the first place? Dammit, he should have gone with his gut feeling. They realized it, how much he cared about Yuma, and targeted him. Just like they targeted his sister. The damn bastards...he'd kill them...if he found a way out of this situation.

But the chances of that were quickly turning slim. He tried with all of his power to keep his eyes open, but he eventually succumbed to darkness.

_I'm sorry._

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><p>A high-pitched chuckle.<p>

Yuma's head shot up and he looked around the darkened room. A bed, he was sitting on, right? No binds. He was free. But he knew that someone else was in there...he felt around his neck for the key. Not there. Panicking, he looked around frantically and tried seeing into the darkness. He could have sworn to have seen a figure. His eyes fixed on that figure, and it moved toward him. He crawled back slightly, before the person's hand shot out to grab his arm. Finally, he found himself staring into the eyes of a familiar person.

III.

The memories of the plane came flooding back, and had it not been for that particular situation, he would have been heavily blushing. But now, with that sickeningly sweet, kind smile staring him in the face, all that he could feel was overwhelming fear. "What..." Yuma started carefully, "What happened...on the plane?"

The smile widened. "My brothers and I were looking for you. We were supposed to bring you back immediately, once we found you."

Yuma's eyebrows furrowed. Then...why...did III...he shook his head. He had some sort of ulterior motive, of course. No doubt about it. After what he had done to Shark...God, Yuma could never forgive him for that. He wondered how his friend was doing. If he was okay, alive. And fear started to whell up again, causing him to move back, farther away from the pink-haired boy. His smile dropped.

"But you didn't," Yuma tried, thinking that talking might save him from a terrible fate. "Why didn't you?"

"I've taken a liking to you."

That didn't sound good. Yuma's eyes widened as III pushed him back, slamming onto his lips and passionately kissing him. In all of his shock, Yuma had no time to struggle as III slipped his tongue into his mouth and started to explore under his shirt tentatively. Suddenly, III pulled back when he saw the other not complying. "What's this?" He asked, annoyed. "I thought you said that you thought we could be friends? And now, we can. I almost had my family turn on me, just for you..."

Yuma pushed him back. "Not..." He breathed heavily, his cheeks painted pink. "Not...like this. I don't want it like this."

III smiled again, gentler, and moved up to place a kiss on Yuma's forehead. "I understand. Later, then. If you communicate, I can keep you secret from my brothers. Understood?"

He didn't get it. Yuma shook his head and stared angrily.

"I won't do that! I can't! Where's Astral? What did you do to Shark? I can't do this to them! You're..." He shrunk back, terrified, horrified at III's displeased expression. "You're a monster..."

III sighed. Suddenly, Yuma felt a pinch on his arm. He looked down. A needle. "You'll go out happier, better than your friend. I'm unhappy that we couldn't be together. I really did start liking you a lot." Yuma felt dizzy and anxious, slipping out of the real world quicker than when he fell asleep. But this was sleep, wasn't it? That's all that death was. Sleep. But more permanent. Yuma remembered the last thing that III had said to him, before he finally retreated from conciousness.

"I'm sorry, but I love my family more than you."


	17. Repayment

**A/N**: Sorry for the short break I had to take from this story! I simply couldn't find the motivation. Please expect more from me, ha! This fic is partially sharkbait. (Ryoga/Yuma)

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><p>Ryoga had no idea of how he got into this situation.<p>

Actually, he did, and that how could be described simply with Yuma. He sat on a mildly uncomfortable bench and crossed his legs, waiting impatiently outside of a store with a bag in hand. Just over an hour prior, he was dragged into a mall for some sort of "friend date," or whatever the black-and-pink haired boy chose to call it. Reluctantly, Ryoga agreed. Or, rather, didn't say no.

Of course. Ryoga couldn't say no to Yuma.

It's not a fact of friendship or romance, it's _unhealthy._

It's not his fault, either. Whenever he closed his eyes and the boy was in the vicinity, the only things to flash through his eyes were the times that Yuma had saved him from himself. When he dueled Kaito, trying to save the key that he'd previously broken, he _failed,_ and Yuma ended up _saving him again._

If it were possible to give back more than your life to someone, Ryoga would gladly do so, just to get rid of this feeling of _owing_ someone so much. Honestly, it didn't help that he'd legitimately began enjoying the boy's company. Somehow, the two merged, and now he found it near impossible to refuse something like this from Yuma. It _needed_ to stop and _fast._

He rubbed the bridge of his nose roughly, trying to focus on anything _other _than Yuma. He really was like the sun, his personality radiating on everyone that could see him, and like a magnet, attracting everyone to him in one way or another, and Ryoga just didn't get it. He'd been hardened by his time in gangs and being ridiculed for his time in the National Duel Circuit, so he could easily say no to someone if he didn't want to do something with them.

Hell, he'd gotten used to avoiding people, and he went through the millions and billions of ways of saying no to them in ways that didn't warrant unwanted confrontation, or ways that warranted wanted confrontation. Then, suddenly, Yuma Tsukumo comes along and he completely forgets everything he'd learned and starts letting himself get attached to a person he once tried to get away from.

Eventually, he broke it down to the feeling he got around his sister, but even that didn't compare, which again, was very much past unhealthy. The feeling that he'd do anything for them because he knew they'd to the same, but for Yuma, it was different because he _had_ done the same, he _had_ risked himself to save others, as well as saving Ryoga. For some reason, the feeling wasn't platonic, either, and - okay, _no,_ he wasn't going to jump to conclusions.

Ryoga uncrossed his legs and crossed them the other way, now feeling generally uncomfortable.

"Shark! I found this awesome new card, come on!"

He was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts by Yuma screaming at him from the doorway of the store, attracting many eyes, to which Yuma was either oblivious or uncaring. In all honesty, he was enjoying his time alone with only his thoughts, his feet partially tired from the walking he'd done that day. Despite his wish to stay still, to refuse, his legs moved like a machine towards the doorway to check out what exactly Yuma had called him over for.

After all, Ryoga could never say no to Yuma.


	18. Reprise

**A/N**: **_You're going to want to read this: _**Warning for emetophobia (throwing up).

I wrote this a short while back for a friend, since we both like Ryoga/Mizael, and I finally decided to post it on here and update this fic.

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><p>It's quite a while before Ryoga realizes what the hell is going on and he begins to properly panic.<p>

He would admit that he'd been involved in the "gang life" and as a result had to perform a fair amount of degrading acts. He would also admit to having been a hormonal teenager, as well as quite open about his sexuality.

Not _this_ open, mind you.

Mizael would come up with some excuse for it, one that he really believed, but he knows that it's just his own strange sexual fascination with humans that makes him force the blue haired boy on his knees. He would say that he was upset over Ryoga looking like an ally to the Barians. But he really couldn't care less about it.

Horror sets in as Ryoga has his mouth forced open by the man – no, actually, alien – in front of him. He doesn't even take the time to observe his surroundings, mostly because he knows that he was taken somewhere outside of Earth and quite frankly didn't want to know , there's something terrifyingly exciting about being restrained, something that he couldn't quite say that he was used to.

More than restrained, though. He's gagged by the cock of a person he'd never even thought about more than once or twice and without any knowledge of his surroundings or how the hell to get back to Earth. Half of him wants it to be over already, half of him is disgustingly stimulated.

Overcome with too many emotions at once, Ryoga begins to feel sick, his entire body lurching into the hips of the enigmatic being in front of him. He can't vomit, though, not at that time, and his fingers suddenly reach up to stroke himself, giving him some sort of relief. He nearly sobs from it.

Tears begin to well up in his eyes and he closes them, then opens them, wondering which is worse.

Mizael thrusts forward, thanking the entire Barian world that he was in his regular form, swearing that he would have been long gone by now otherwise. Still, he can't manage to keep his self-control for long and comes without warning, pushing his dick into Ryoga's throat.

He can't even manage to swallow as an awful taste fills his mouth, gagging him more than he thought was possible, and then he's _actually_ vomiting, spilling his stomach onto Mizael and himself and pulling away and immediately standing in front of the puzzled and shocked Barian.

The terrible stench overwhelms him and he coughs before stumbling forward and puking again. He has a sour taste in his mouth, mixing with bile, and he can't help but feel himself continually aroused by the situation.

Many moments pass, god, it feels like an eternity, and Mizael finally speaks up.

"You can't think that you're going to get away with this," he speaks, and it sounds like both heaven and hell to Ryoga. "Clean this up."

It doesn't take long before Ryoga is on his knees in his own expelled food, licking at the legs of the man before him.


	19. Enemy Enemy

**A/N**: well fuck my dicks and call me skippy i finally finished this

by the way it's disqualifyshipping (ryoga/iv)

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><p>Over the past eight months, Ryoga and Thomas had been in a romantic relationship.<p>

Maybe it was because they were nearly never together – hell, they _do_ say that distance makes the heart grow fonder – that a relationship even in a minor way between Ryoga Kamishiro and Thomas Arclight could have been positive. Thomas constantly pissed Ryoga off. After their duel in the World Duel Carnival, things didn't get any better, despite how much they may have been expected to. In fact, the knowledge that Thomas was _less_ of a monster than he believed made him even more livid. How _dare_ that asshole make him have sympathy for him? How _dare _that _prick_ make him understand what he was going through, trying to save his family and doing whatever it took to do so?

And, really, it wasn't any better for Thomas.

Ryoga made Thomas experience a range of emotions all at once – guilt, emptiness, crushing anxiety, anger, and a strange excitement in more ways than one. Not only that, but it was so much worse than either of them had realized once they met for the first time after the defeat of Dr. Faker and after the full recovery of Rio. The very sight of Ryoga made Thomas absolutely _terrified, _if that could even partially explain everything that was going on in his brain, going from acting manic and certifiably insane to angry and hostile, recoiling like a scared _cat,_ to calm and even a small bit embarrassed at his actions.

Most of their meetings were in various random areas of the town, usually alleyways, and the first few times they'd met on accident, they'd generally ignored each other. However, the meetings became more frequent, and small talk became inevitable, no matter how uncomfortable. A month had passed and their meetings became even more common, to the point where they were actively looking for each other from time to time. However, the conversations never got past the usual. _What have you been doing?_ _How was your last duel?_ And, of course, at one point, _how has your sister been doing?_

_That_ specific question spawned silence, then a strained answer from Ryoga. "Fine," he muttered, "She's been fine. She's recovered."

Talking was difficult for a couple of weeks after that.

"I'm surprised," Thomas would mention a few times, "that you would be so willing to speak with me."

Through gritted teeth, Ryoga would reluctantly reply, "You're no worse than many of my other _friends_," as if he were trying to convince himself of that. Thomas simply would laugh, though it would sound strangely spiteful and less maniacal than Ryoga was used to from him.

If there was one thing that was completely true, it was that Thomas Arclight was _not _insecure. He was entirely secure – hell, his guise as a complete-monster-playing-nice was never really all that fallacious. Well, he would constantly think, of course it wasn't, because he _was_ a complete monster. (This train of thought, he would like to point out, was not self-deprecation. It was simple fact. And if he hadn't thrown in the fake, kind appearance for his fans, he wouldn't even think his malicious persona was too far off the map of his real self.) However, his endless belief was that he was, in fact, one of the best duelists that he'd ever known. He'd attained this reputation (as well as the reputation of being the honest and kind duelist – _that_ one was a laugh) by cheating, of course, but he'd proven that his dueling skills were exactly all that they'd been known for and more.

But, of course, there were those strange conversations where Ryoga would almost attempt to redeem Thomas_ for_ him that really made him wonder if any of that was actually true.

"Ryoga," he once began in a low voice, nearly praying that he wouldn't have heard him. Unluckily, he had, and motioned for Thomas to continue, "if it hadn't been for Yuma Tsukumo, my father would still be the same man that attempted to manipulate you." He paused and sighed quietly. "I want you to thank him for me."

He just about expected Ryoga to laugh at him, to scoff, to look away or walk away, or to just change the subject. However, he was surprised when after a moment of stunned silence, Ryoga nodded firmly and smirked, raising an eyebrow as if he were unsure of how to react. "Fine." He glanced down, wondering how his immense hatred for the older boy had turned into friendship and more or less admiration. "When the hell did you become a good person?" He asked jokingly.

For the first time in quite a while, Thomas had nothing to retort or reply with. After a moment, he simply shrugged lightly.

_A good person?_ Goddamn, was that a laugh! Why would the brother of the girl he set on fire call him a good person? He was far from it, to a ridiculous extent. Why would someone like him feel any sort of positive emotions towards Thomas? His actions couldn't be excused, that was simple fact, and of course Ryoga hadn't forgiven him, why the hell would he? Thomas began walking through an empty alleyway, knowing exactly who he was looking for. Every time Ryoga actually showed up, Thomas was beyond surprised. Not because he was worried he wouldn't show, but because he knew that Ryoga didn't have a reason to show.

Yet, maybe he did. Maybe Ryoga had truly stopped hating him. The thought, of course, was ludicrous. The genuine anger in every kiss they had proved that the frustration shared between the two was not entirely sexual (though, of course, that was a large part of it) and that their detestation of each other, no matter how faded it was, had burst into flames every time they began any physical contact. It wasn't too long before they'd overheated past the point of any sexual act.

Then again, maybe it was natural for an Arclight to be incessantly emotionally conflicted.

Unfortunately, this exact thing happened to Ryoga the last time that they had met up. That was their fourth attempt – the first time ended with Thomas having a near breakdown and Ryoga leaving without a word. Over time, the two had become more accustomed to each other – to each other's bodies, more like – and they generally knew how to act around each other. However, the sheer frustration and inability to let their pasts go affected the both of them, causing each of their sexual encounters to be painfully difficult to manage on both of their ends. The two were enraged and excited and overheated to the point where Ryoga finished much too early.

Unsurprisingly, it had been about three weeks before they'd been able to speak to each other without arguing.

Thomas stepped confidently towards the blue haired boy around the alleyway. "I must say, after our last encounter, I didn't expect you to show your face."

Ryoga scoffed and narrowed his eyes, shock evident on his face; they rarely spoke about it, and when they did, it was never in a joking manner. "I could say the same for you. I don't remember you being any better than me." Ryoga finished quickly, looking away finally. "That's not what I'm here for."

The red-and-yellow haired boy cocked an eyebrow, showing interest. Seldom did they meet with the actual intent to speak about anything specific. Without warning, his mind raced through what it was that Ryoga found so important to bring up. He came up with many unlikely conclusions, but ended up deciding not to be so quick to assume. Quietly, he finally asked. "What is it?" His voice sounded strained, as if it were attempting to mask his emotions in a way that his expressions couldn't.

Ryoga averted his eyes, trying to look anywhere except Thomas. "Rio and I – we, well, had a talk." He coughed awkwardly, his eyes finding the ground suddenly very interesting. "I…forgive you."

Maybe Thomas didn't realize exactly what he meant. Maybe he didn't comprehend the gravity of it. Forgiveness didn't come easy to Ryoga Kamishiro, hell, he would admit that, and for him to have given someone who had caused both him and his sister such grief a second chance was a miracle on its own. The longer the silence dragged on for, the longer the Arclight held that unchanged expression made him wonder if he'd even actually said it out loud or not, in all honesty. "Didn't you hear me?" Ryoga was getting more aggravated by the second. "I said that I forgive you!"

No. No, he didn't, is what Thomas automatically believed. "I heard you," he choked out. But it didn't make much of a difference, did it? Because he didn't deserve to be forgiven, because it was all his fault, and this was _wrong_, Ryoga was _supposed_ to hate him, and oh _god_, why didn't he hate him? His stomach churned and he simply stood there, uncomfortably stoic, steadily increasing Ryoga's rage. He knew that he had to say _something_.

"Why?"

That definitely wasn't what Ryoga was expecting. Still, it was a reasonable question, and he couldn't keep up the sickening tension.

"I can't just…not forgive you after what we've done. You've stopped fighting, so I stopped, too. Rio forgives you, so I figured that since I've started to like you, it would be better if I did."

It still didn't help Thomas, no, instead it just made him dizzy and his mouth dry. But perhaps they could learn from each other, he finally decided. Perhaps Ryoga could learn to truly forgive, and Thomas could learn to truly take forgiveness.

"Thank you."


End file.
